Beneath the spectral glow
of machine-murmours,
a binary breeze whispers
to those who dare wander
deeper.
Lo! The ghostly remnants
of forgotten fibers,
where every thread tells
a static tale of dreams
suspended.
Oh, the chants of ones and zeros,
a dirge for what remains,
a hymn for what was
once anew.
In this abyss uncollisioned,
stark data cacophonies
sing of damp embers
—
interior storms.